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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622097">The Army of King Henry V of England</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostbitten_written/pseuds/frostbitten_written'>frostbitten_written</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Henry IV - Shakespeare, Henry IV Part 1 - Shakespeare, Henry IV Part 2 - Shakespeare, Henry V - Shakespeare, The Hollow Crown (2012), The Hollow Crown RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Actor Tom Hiddleston, Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Angst and Romance, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bathtub Sex, Bathtubs, Battle of Agincourt, Breeding, Breeding Kink, British, British Empire, British English, Come Eating, Come Marking, Come Sharing, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Cunnilingus, Dom Tom Hiddleston, England (Country), F/M, Feels, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forced Orgasm, Français | French, Gentle Kissing, Hand &amp; Finger Kink, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Hundred years' war, I'm Sorry William Shakespeare, Kissing, Light Angst, Loss of Virginity, Love, Married Couple, Married Sex, Mention of children, Mentions of War, Multiple Orgasms, Naked Cuddling, Naked Female Clothed Male, Neck Kissing, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Tom Hiddleston, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Protective Tom Hiddleston, Romantic Angst, Royalty, Sex, Shameless Smut, Simultaneous Orgasm, Smut, The Hollow Crown: Henry V, Tom Hiddleston Feels, Tom Hiddleston Is A Sweetheart, United Kingdom, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:02:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27622097</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostbitten_written/pseuds/frostbitten_written</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>King Henry V will be departing for battle on the morrow. He and his queen share one last night of passion, with hopes of conceiving.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Henry V of England/Original Character(s), Henry V of England/Original Female Character(s), Henry V of England/Other(s), Henry V of England/Reader, Henry V of England/You, Tom Hiddleston &amp; Original Character(s), Tom Hiddleston &amp; Original Female Character(s), Tom Hiddleston &amp; Original Female Character(s) of Color, Tom Hiddleston &amp; Reader, Tom Hiddleston &amp; You, Tom Hiddleston/Original Character(s), Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s), Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s) of Color, Tom Hiddleston/Reader, Tom Hiddleston/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Army of King Henry V of England</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspiration: I’ve recently developed a little obsession with Tom Hiddleston’s Henry V from The Hollow Crown and suddenly I have a Henry V breeding kink one-shot on my hands! I have neither read nor watched Henry V. I don’t know how the story actually goes. I have seen The King on Netflix. That’s all the knowledge I have on this particular work of Shakespeare. This is neither historically accurate nor accurate according to Shakespeare’s play. I just wanted to write some regal filth for Tom Hiddleston’s rendition of Henry V. I promise, this won’t disappoint. 🤤</p><p>Heads up: The queen I write about has no name. Y’all are queens, that’s why I didn’t give her a name; use your own name.</p><p>My Smut Disclaimer: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24872329</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been thirteen hours and six minutes since Henry had left for court. Usually, her beloved would return at the eighth hour, making her wait no more than ten. His delay alarmed her; she knew something was wrong. She felt it in the air; it pierced her lungs and penetrated her skin, making itself known in her bones: something was wrong.</p><p>So against her better judgment, the queen sneaked out into the nightly corridors of the castle. She trod lightly, her steps a delicate echo. </p><p>The queen made her way to the courtroom and stuck to the shadows. The guards dare not question her whereabouts, and neither would they do anything to fall out of her favour. Of course, there were guards stationed outside of the courtroom.</p><p>“The queen requests privacy. Return to your posts upon my departure.”</p><p>The guards did as told; their metal armour clanked loudly, as they scampered away. The queen took a deep breath and practically made one with the door. She pressed her body against it and tightly shut her eyes, tuning into the conversation of the courtroom. She knew that those rambunctious men tended to get loud; she was bound to hear some of their affairs leak through the walls. </p><p>Their usual animated banter and masculine declarative shouts waned to uncertain, inaudible murmurs. As far as she could ascertain, there were very few councilmen present in the meeting. Them, along with her husband, have said very little and have spoken very quietly. She was about to leave when her husband’s stentorian voice reverberated within the walls of the palace. She heard each word loud and clear.</p><p>“There was an attempt on my life, an attempt on our England! This is an act of war!”</p><p>The queen tightly clenched her palms into fists as she took a deep breath. She was aware of the assassination attempt, as was most in the palace, but no one said a word, in fear of upsetting the already tense king. He would deal with it in due time.  </p><p>“England has been idle far too long.” His pause made the dread in her stomach fester.</p><p>
  <em> It was time. </em>
</p><p>“As of dawn, we good English set forth upon France.”</p><p>Those words elicited the incoherent murmurings of his councilmen and the shock of reality through her veins. Her husband will be at war, England is now at war, they are now an enemy of France.</p><p>She felt herself grow weak after acquiring such news. She let out a tiny gasp; the breath she had been holding in made her head spin. She stumbled away from the door and retreated as quickly as she could. She heard the large doors open, the mighty sound echoing in the halls. The pitter-patter of her footsteps paled in comparison to the noisy march of the men emptying from the room. </p><p>The queen retreated to their rooms. It was late; the moon had taken the sun's spot, and the earth grew dark. When she returned to their private chambers, a servant was preparing their bath. A large, brass tub, was filled with water.</p><p>“The king has requested a private bath, your majesty.”</p><p>The servant taking care of the affair addressed her and quickly left her alone. The bathwater was warm, and the soap was fragrant. It smelled like the lavender field she used to frolic in as a child. Along with the bath essentials, was their nightclothes. She even spotted some lotion. </p><p>They were to share a night of luxury and bliss before tackling the canker of war. She scrunched her nose at the thought of it all. The roughness and tragedy that accompanies the feat, it always deeply unsettled her.</p><p>She began to strip, discarding the jewels, finery and fabrics of her usual day attire. She didn’t even flinch when their bedroom door was flung open. She didn’t have to look to know it was her husband’s ragged breath lingering at the door. She could feel his gaze burn into her bareback and stop at her bottom. He never could resist the urge to leer at her naked form. She knew she could virtually control the kingdom, with her nakedness, through him.</p><p>“No further disturbances this evening. The queen and I shall retire for the night.” His shouts were merely simple commands, albeit practice for the bloody fields to come.</p><p>There was a moment of silence between the two before his light footsteps, and his beautiful voice came through.</p><p>“My queen, you tease me so.” He started, his sonorous voice travelling closer.</p><p>“And to start in my absence…” His call tickled her ears, and his hot breath fanned sin against her neck, sending delicious shivers down her spine.</p><p>He placed his lips on her shoulder and wrapped her in his embrace. In her state of shock and fear, she was dismissive of his affection, and he noticed. </p><p>All it took was a second entranced by her gaze, and he knew. He saw all of her worries unspoken yet spelt out, clearer than day. He knew his wife better than anyone on earth; she had the tendency to listen in on his affairs every so often.</p><p>“Let us bathe.”</p><p>Henry carefully removed his crown and placed it on the bedside cabinet. His queen came forward and undid the buttons of his leather jerkin and slipped it off. Her fingers delicately traced his collarbone as she pushed it off of his body. She squeezed his muscles and trailed down his body to do the same for his breeches. </p><p>She undid them and dragged her fingers down his thick thighs, making a point to ignore his half-massed cock, standing proudly before her.</p><p>Although she teased him relentlessly, he closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, always appreciating his wife’s touch. The delicate sensation of her steady hands on him, on his body, on his skin, always made his flesh raise in response.</p><p>“Come, husband mine. Let us cleanse from the day’s work.”</p><p>The queen, followed by the king, stepped into the large brass tub and sunk to its floor. They sat across from one another, and she began to lather the soap. Its aroma was gentle enough to put a grown man to sleep, he wearily concluded. She leaned forward and spread the foamy mixture across his broad chest. She got to work, cleaning the grime of England off of her husband, like any other day. It was their ritual, a little intimate moment shared amongst lovers. He got lost in her beauty. </p><p>She carried on mechanically washing off her husband, but he stared at her, drinking in her features like it was his first time discovering it.</p><p>Not only was she the regal queen of England, the most respected woman in all of the world, but she was <em> his </em> wife to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.</p><p>
  <em> Till death, do us part. </em>
</p><p>The last words echoed in his brain, singled out from the rest. He and his troops departed tomorrow before the sun makes her inevitable appearance. His future was in the hands of the almighty, but even the mightiest can fall, he concluded. </p><p>He halted her movements and garnered her attention. His eyes searched hers in question, seeking meaning and purpose. His lips crashed into hers, pulling her in, closer to his being.</p><p>He needed to feel her, everything about her, against him.</p><p>He relished in the thought of his wife. He made it his mission to bathe her. He wanted to indulge in the pleasures of her flesh. He wanted to sear the image of his wife onto his skin and into his mind. He wanted to remember every inch of her perfect body. He wanted to love what was his and only his. He needed to treasure his gift from the Almighty. He needed to touch her and feel her, all of her.</p><p>He needed his wife.</p><p>He had her recline, and he took his time memorising her every ridge and curve. He deftly swiped his fingers over her flesh as he lathered her limbs in the sweetest smelling soap in his land. He washed everything off, christening the job with a kiss. He lifted one of her legs above the water and placed a chaste kiss to her ankle. His moustache brushed against her warm skin and tickled her in more ways than one.</p><p>The solemn gaze he offered from his spot between her legs tended to the embers of desire burning in her belly. </p><p>“Steady yourself,” he commanded her in a husky tone she knew all too well.</p><p>She tightly grasped the edge of the tub and gasped when her husband unceremoniously lifted her body. He threw one of her legs over his shoulder and firmly held onto the other. It was an impressive piece of contortion that ached her abdomen but counteracted with the burning ache he quickly satiated with his tongue. The queen gasped and moaned loudly, all humility be damned. Her husband had his face nestled between her legs and his tongue deep in her canal.</p><p>He closed his mouth around her and suckled her genitals like a juicy piece of fruit. She moved her hips against his face and desperately pulled him closer. Her thighs squeezed him in place, and his naughty chuckle sent shivers throughout her body. His tongue alone could both start and end a war, she believed, from the moment it graced her skin.</p><p>Her husband was a zealous lover, and when making love, was sure that she was short of nothing, especially climaxes. With a few hard suckles to her sensitive bud, she was climaxing against his face. The scream of ecstasy she let out was all the palace needed to hear to know to stay away for the night.</p><p>The king was busy tonight, and he was nowhere near finished, with his darling little wife.</p><p>Henry reclined against the tub and pulled his wife against his chest.</p><p>“Turn, let me appreciate your back as well.”</p><p>He had his arms wrapped around her, and his legs caging her in. The massive expanse of his body engulfed her in a warm, homely embrace. He kissed her shoulders and dragged his lips across her skin, his beard tickling her upper back. She let out an airy giggle, and he sighed contentedly. Henry resumed his indulgence of her flesh. His lips had covered every inch of her skin, and his fingers had teased and caressed her flesh like it was his sole purpose in life. </p><p>He spent the better half of their time in the bath exploring his wife’s body. Henry's fingers worked masterfully against her anatomy.</p><p>He traced and tickled her opening with one hand and groped her breast with the other. She threw her head back onto his shoulder and moaned. She could feel his cock harden significantly against her backside. She twisted to give him some relief, but he declined and focused on her needs.</p><p>“Not yet,” he said in a ragged voice. He placed his palm over her front and tickled her bud with a finger. He eased his fingers further over her core and teased her entrance mercilessly.</p><p>“Henry, please,” she begged him countless times. His wife was already sopping from the first climax he provided. It was the first of many, and she knew it. She would be sodden with his good work by the night’s end, but she was going to have to play by his rules.</p><p>He inserted his fingers one at a time into his wife’s channel and pleasured her endlessly. He watched as her chest rose and fell with each trembling breath. He pinched her nipples and aptly fondled her breasts at his leisure. He felt her body tremble within his grasp, so he sped up his pace.</p><p>“Husband, please!” Henry smiled against her skin. His beard tickled the sensitive flesh.</p><p>“Yes, my darling, wife?” His voice was deep and sensual yet ribald. She felt it rumble from deep within his chest, the sound vibrating against her back. There was nothing that Henry loved more than bringing his darling wife to the cusp of pleasure, only to pull her back.</p><p>To him, the result is worth the patience and impatience, on her part.</p><p>“Patience, my little queen. <em> La petite mort </em> will be worth the wait, don’t you agree?” She gasped in response as her husband perfectly crooked his fingers, yet again. He played with her cunt ruthlessly; he slipped his fingers into her silky, wet channel and slowly fucked her with his fingers. She shivered and moaned clenching around the sensation of him. He could feel her pert little bud stand out against the heel of his palm.</p><p>“Is this want you want, my little queen?” He made sure to grind it against her, eliciting little gasps of pleasure from his wife.</p><p>“Yes, my king,” she sighed and moaned, a bit flustered when he removed his fingers from inside of her. </p><p>“Let us continue this in our marital bed, shall we?” He stood up and helped his wife out of the tub.</p><p>The two dried off but refrained from redressing; Henry insisted on the latter.</p><p>He picked his wife up into his arms and carried her over to their bed. He gently placed her among the sheets and pillows before climbing onto her. The king held onto her ankle and brought her leg up to his lips. He kissed her ankle and slowly dragged his lips up her legs.</p><p>“Henry, again?” She exclaimed as she bit her smile away.</p><p>“For every hour that I have neglected you today, you will be compensated, I will see to it. I shall be your slave if it be your desire tonight, my queen.” He captured her lips in a sweet, chaste kiss that made her remember the first one they ever shared.</p><p>“You have witchcraft in your lips, wife mine,” he muttered like a fool in love. </p><p>With his wife distracted, Henry reached down to her centre and resumed their activities from the bath. He always enjoyed catching her off-guard. Her cunt would flutter like a young butterfly, and her gasps would put an angel’s songs to shame. He sped up his fingers’ assault on his wife’s nethers, to be rewarded with the <em> crème de la crème </em>. She convulsed and gushed around his fingers.</p><p>“Henry, you insatiable beast,” she gasped. He greedily ate up the scream that left her lips. He sucked her flesh like the sweetest nectar. When he was satisfied, he pulled away to admire her state of disarray.</p><p>
  <em> It was beautiful. </em>
</p><p>Her post-climax high was something of a drug for him. It was so intoxicating that he could give up the throne of England if she asked him to.</p><p>“Look at that. I’ve spent so much time delving into your juices, that I’ve begun to prune.” Henry showed his wife his fingers, and he was right. They began to resemble that of a prune, a shiny prune. She blushed and placed her arm over her face, closing her eyes. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.</p><p>“Haven’t you had enough as yet, darling?” She whispered, afraid he’d hear just how much power he has over her body, using only his fingers. Her husband chuckled and replied nonchalantly, yet with great passion and lust in his eyes.</p><p>“No, I will never tire of fastidiously numbing my fingers against your rigged, silken, inner walls.” The look of desire and lust in his eyes took her back to the first time they had lain with one another. Nothing has changed, except for their intimate familiarity with each other. </p><p>On their first night, she trembled like a leaf. She had heard tales from women who had lain with men. Many of them were not pleasant; she had never expected in her life, that she would experience such raw passion laying with a man. All of the stories she had heard previously to being a maiden, were of pain and dissatisfaction, but with her Hal, it was everything. It was like being sent to heaven, the perfect <em> petite mort </em> indeed.</p><p>It was like being reborn.</p><p>She felt like a woman in his bed, not like his whore. Her nethers weren’t brutalised; its needs were tended to, her cunt was cared for, and her body was worshipped. His hands trailed the length of her body, and his fingers eagerly grasped her pliant flesh. He stole her breath away and quelled her worries with his lips. That night he confessed his love and professed his promises to her. Amongst the sweet tales and whispers of his tongue, was the future of bearing a son.</p><p>“<em> Je t'aime, ma chère femme </em>,” he whispered between her legs. His hot breath fanned against her already heated core and sent shivers down her spine. He confessed his feelings to her in the language of his predecessors. He looked up at her from his position and made eye contact.</p><p>“I love you, my dear wife.” His thumb repeatedly ran over her knuckles as a small smile began to grace his lips.</p><p>English, he decided he would use English. The king of England would profess to the queen of England in English, of his English love.</p><p>He inched his way back up her body, and they were face to face. He placed his lips on his wife’s and sucked in her sweet little noises. Her moans, her gasps, her little chirps of glee, he ate them up like a hungry wolf. He leaned down to her breasts and captured a nipple with his lips; he swirled his tongue around the bud and pulled it gently between his teeth. She gasped and arched into his touch. He trailed kisses over to the other breast to do the same.</p><p>He couldn’t help himself; he kept imagining his wife swell with child, and her breasts engorge with nourishment. He always admired the way they would animatedly bounce, but he couldn’t help the thought that crossed his mind, a babe attached to her nipple, to <em> each </em> nipple.</p><p>The visual taunted his mind, and he shivered delightfully. </p><p>Henry had made good on his promise to recompense each hour of neglect. He had made love by his fingers and tongue until his wife shouted from the top of her lungs.</p><p>“I’m weary, I’m weary!” Could be heard from their chambers at midnight. By the end of his salacious torture, the queen was trembling in pleasure. Her cunt had become so sensitive that a mere touch was all it took for her to break.</p><p>She was literally dripping with desire, and her husband’s favourite, her climax.</p><p>The nectar from between her thighs pleased him greatly, but he longed to <em> fill </em> his wife. He wanted to plant his seed so deeply inside of her womb that she would be impregnated, by dawn. His cock stood out proudly at the thought. They, along with practically all of their subjects, had discussed their posterity, or as many others liked to refer to them, the future of England. </p><p>Henry kissed his wife’s inner thigh before slinking back up her body to be face-to-face.</p><p>“Breed me a son, a daughter, a child to carry on my name.” The queen hummed quietly, as it was her duty and her honour.</p><p>"Breed me, my king," she declared in a sultry voice.</p><p>She remembers when it all started. It was after his first assassination attempt. Of course, they knew the risks that came with his being of title, but for such a thing to actually manifest, to encounter such a thing, such a demon amongst men… Something like that burns away a part of your soul and sanity.</p><p>It made her realise how <em>mortal</em> her Hal was. Yes, he was the invincible Henry V, king of England, but at the end of the day, he was still only human, and all humans perish at some point. Henry may only last for so long, but his name, his posterity, that is everlasting…</p><p>When she received the news, she had experienced true fear, she believed. She couldn’t imagine what would be swimming through her Hal’s head at that moment. Apparently, it was vaguely the same idea she had kept unvoiced. </p><p>They had discussed having children before. She knew it was her duty, as the queen of England. It was her most important job, to provide an heir, but Henry didn’t <em> just </em> want an heir. According to him, he wanted a <em> “little army” </em>of children.</p><p>His eyes lit up with the prospect of little royal children running down their halls and playing with the latest toys. He fantasised about teaching his sons archery and spoiling his little girls with all of the finest fabrics the world had to offer. He wanted his dining hall to be a courtroom of children, his happy children, <em> his little army </em>. </p><p>Since the first month, he had spent most of his private time, alone with her, buried deep in her cunt. His queen had always been there for him, whether it be emotionally or physically. When he had marched into his chambers with a prominent prick in his trousers, she didn’t hesitate to spread her legs. She could recall the numerous times his grunts had chased away any personnel in the castle. She'll never forget, just this past week.</p><p>Being the cunning king that he is, he had lured her to the library, her favourite place, with the promise of a private reading of one of her favourite plays. It would be just the two of them. But, of course, with her Hal, one thing led to another, and he had quickly undone his breeches and pulled out his cock. He was flushed and aching, needing, <em> “to feel your walls squeeze me of my worth, and be greedy in its stead.” </em></p><p>He had her against the wall, impaled on his length in seconds. She moaned, and he groaned. They even managed to topple a stack of books, which then led to her mortification. As if that wasn’t enough, two servants scurried in only to be blinded by their nefarious doings.</p><p>“Henry,” she weakly called out, her blood furiously rushing to her cheeks. Henry had no intention of stopping. He growled and pistoned his hips with more vigour, squeezing his wife’s flesh with greed.</p><p>“Out and not another word,” he had barked like a dictator, before spilling into his wife.</p><p>And so the entire castle whispered of their risqué endeavours. <em> The king and the queen are trying to conceive, and soon there shall be three! </em></p><p>When they coupled, she would typically end up with his cum on her, at times dried and marked like an animal, she would remark, down her throat, the beautiful sounds she would elicit from him using only her tongue had become one of the few marvels in the world, and lastly, inside of her. This time, it was different.</p><p>It <em> felt </em> different.</p><p>He had done it with purpose, strength, vigour and a goal in mind. He made it count, keeping himself sheathed to the hilt within her. He had languidly kissed her shoulder as he plugged her fluttering cunt, not letting a drop escape. It had been like this for weeks. She hadn’t even performed fellatio on him, at least, not all the way through.</p><p>Their coupling nowadays always ended the same way, with his cock buried so deeply within her that she was almost sure he had partially rearranged her insides.</p><p>“Your only worry is to swell with child; bore me an heir.” She bit her lip, a telltale sign that she worried.</p><p>“Any child of mine is of equal heir to the throne. They will be my children, your children, our children and sprung from such a worthy womb…” He trailed off before capturing her lips yet again, that night.</p><p>Henry adjusted his position and nestled his cock between her folds. Her entrance was so impossibly slick that he was sure his wife would feel nothing but bliss when he mounted her. His wife pulled him close as he sheathed himself within her. She was able to accommodate him, every inch of his length, to the hilt.</p><p>The feeling was intense, it always was. Her Hal was well endowed and lucky for her, he knew exactly how to use it. </p><p>At first, his movements were slow and sensual. He gradually worked up to his hearty thursts. Each burst of energy collided loudly and roughly with her hips. Henry lowered his head to the crook of her neck; he took refuge in her skin as he continued to plough into her. His hips snapped rhythmically as his breath faltered against her skin.</p><p>He inhaled deeply and stole a few kisses as he suckled her skin. He wanted to smell like his queen on the battlefield. He wanted her scent to remain on him, reminding him, in his every waking moment, what he was fighting for, England and its future. His posterity, along with his kingdom, will know no hardships and only the great riches of life; he would see to it, he had vowed.</p><p>Henry felt the burn of his wife’s nails clawing into his back. His muscles flexed as they endured the searing pain. The two panted as his thrusts grew more enthusiastic; his languid strokes were replaced with a more vigorous thrust.</p><p>His manhood brushed against her sensitive inner walls and drew wails of pleasure from her lips. He grunted as she squeezed down on his girth and clamped her thighs down around him. He was trapped in her embrace, buried deep within her concave. Henry hovered his large palm over her abdomen and pressed down. She could feel the pressure of not only his palm over her abdomen but also, his pistoning cock.</p><p>“Do you feel this?” She gasped and nodded.</p><p>“This is where my seed will take root and you shall swell with child. Is this not what you want?” He questioned her breathlessly as she clenched around him in affirmation.</p><p>“Yes, Hal, please!” </p><p>He groaned as he felt his climax near. He reached down to lazily play with his wife’s bud, once more.</p><p>“Then cum for your king, your England. Swear to me, darling, that you shall bring forth many heirs from your worthy womb,” he grunted out through clenched teeth, barely able to put off his oncoming orgasm. Although Henry grunted with conviction, his usually vocal wife could only be heard by him and him alone.</p><p>“Come with me, my king; stay with me,” she pleaded in a quiet voice. It was a request for her and him alone. It was their last few moments of peace within the other’s embrace; they would share it, together. So she held off from her pleasure and held onto her husband for dear life.</p><p>“Hal, love. Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.” Her body was tired and weak. She refused to show just how much she worried for his life, but it had taken a toll on her. She had fallen in love with a youthful, carefree Hal. She saw his boyish ways harden into that of a man, into a king, practically overnight.</p><p>And now, he was heading to war. </p><p>“Presume not that I am the thing I was.” His cock pulsated as he was soon spilling into his wife.</p><p>“Oh, God! Forgive my blasphemous tongue!” Henry sheathed himself to the hilt, filling and plugging his wife with his essence. She had her eye shut, and mouth hung slightly agape. He captured her lips in an assuring kiss. He was still there, and he would be, until sunrise.</p><p>That was all the time he needed, for the time being. </p><p>They turned on their sides and rested in the sweaty glory of the aftermath. Henry pulled his wife close, his cock still buried inside of her, not willing to let a drop of his seed escape her pulsating entrance.</p><p>“Sleep, rest, now, my queen. Worry not for your king. All that’s left for you to do is rest. I patiently await my seed to take root in your motherly womb.” He kissed her sweetly as she began to drift off.</p><p>“I shall await the good news, even out on the battleground. Upon my return, you will be both, the Queen of England and its children.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Is it weird that I still haven't gotten his regal cock out of my system as yet? Damn it, Hiddles...</p><p>Historical reference/Easter eggs: https://www.history.com/topics/british-history/henry-v-england  </p><p>Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated! Find me on Tumblr @ frostbitten-written (https://frostbitten-written.tumblr.com).</p></blockquote></div></div>
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